


On Unsteady Ground

by Fooshi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri takes care of Dedue for once, Established Relationship, Fluff, Illustrated, M/M, New Relationship, Sickfic, nursing back to health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fooshi/pseuds/Fooshi
Summary: Dedue is reluctant to admit that he is sick. Dimitri is determined to help him get well again.Originally written for the Dimidue zine "Cherished".
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	On Unsteady Ground

**Author's Note:**

> My first post of 2021 is a fic I actually wrote last year for the zine [Cherished](https://twitter.com/CHERISHEDZINE). Click the link for more info. Illustrations included were drawn for this fic by the spectacular [Prism](https://twitter.com/becomedog) and are also included in the zine. Enjoy!

Dedue isn’t feeling well; hasn’t been since he woke up this morning. At lunch, he eats in miniscule bites, barely able to stomach the pickled seafood and vegetables placed before him. Dimitri notices and cocks his head to the side.

“Is the food not to your liking today?” He asks. “I recall this being a favorite dish of yours.”

Usually it is, but today swallowing down the acidic brine makes Dedue’s stomach twist dangerously. The strong smell of fish is enough to make him want to leave the room entirely, but it would be disrespectful to abandon Dimitri to finish his lunch alone. Not only would it be disrespectful, but it would make Dedue’s heart ache in the way being apart from Dimitri always made it ache. Especially recently.

“I’m not particularly hungry,” Dedue responds somewhat belatedly.

Dimitri looks at Dedue long and hard, as if he is trying to parse if this answer is the truth or not. Dedue can see Dimitri’s fingers flex, as if he were about to reach across the table and take hold of Dedue’s hand, but decided against it at the last moment. Such gestures of affection are still new and strange between the two of them. New and strange and rare and wonderful. Part of Dedue wishes that Dimitri had decided to take his hand after all.

“I’ll have the cook put it aside for you, in case you want to finish it later,” Dimitri eventually says.

They pass the rest of the meal in silence. It happens sometimes, that a comfortable silence will fall in which nothing needs to be said for them to enjoy each other’s company. Today’s silence is decidedly uncomfortable, with Dedue barely maintaining his composure and Dimitri continually giving him curious looks.

The sun is what does it, in the end. Dedue goes outside to do some gardening after lunch, but after only a half-hour crouched in the dirt, the sun beating hard on his neck and back, Dedue’s earlier lightheadedness returns. It crashes into him like a wave, nearly causing him to pass out right there in the flower beds. He catches himself on a nearby tree and carefully, slowly stands up. That’s when he finally admits to himself that maybe he should take some medicine for this.

He manages to make his way into the kitchen. There’s an old herbal remedy he knows of from back home that should help with headaches and dizzy spells. It won’t cure whatever illness he’s coming down with, but it will help him stay on his feet throughout the rest of the day. He can only hope that they have the right ingredients.

He opens the door to the kitchen and sees Dimitri standing by the counter. His face splits into a smile that makes Dedue’s heart race.

“Dedue! I thought you were in the gardens this afternoon,” Dimitri says. “Did you get hungry for your lunch after all?”

Dedue pauses before answering. He dislikes making Dimitri worry, but he dislikes lying to him even more.

“My head has been bothering me a bit today,” Dedue finally decides on. “I thought I would mix myself some medicine.”

Just as Dedue feared, Dimitri’s smile is replaced by a frown.

“If that is the case, allow me to help you.”

Dedue shakes his head, which is a bad idea because then the room starts spinning. He reaches out his hand to steady himself on the wall, but his aim is off and suddenly Dedue is falling.

The last thing he remembers is strong, warm arms catching him. Then everything goes dark.

* * *

Dedue comes to just as Dimitri is settling him into bed. He tries to sit up but Dimitri gently pushes him back down; and gentle though his touch may be, Dimitri’s strength is not to be resisted.

“Don’t get up,” Dimitri insists, his voice frayed with worry. “Whatever you need, I will fetch it for you.”

Something about that, the idea of Dimitri waiting on him, doting on him, gives Dedue a little jolt of pleasure which he quickly suppresses.

“There is no need,” Dedue responds. “Truly, I am fine.”

“You are not,” Dimitri does not raise his voice, but his tone is firm. “You have overworked yourself, that much is clear, and it has left you in quite a state.”

“I’ve lived through worse,” Dedue says, voicing the thought that has been running through his head on repeat since he awoke.

Dimitri lets out a world weary sigh. “We are not at war anymore. You can afford to be gentle with yourself.”

_You first_ , Dedue thinks, but says nothing.

Dimitri stands up from where he had situated himself at Dedue’s bedside. “If I go to get you a glass of water, will you promise me not to get up and try to go back to work in my absence?”

Dedue, unable to deny Dimitri a thing, says, “I promise.”

Dimitri’s smile returns, smaller than before, but relieved. “I will be back soon, my love.”

Dimitri turns and leaves, not staying long enough to see the effect that term of affection has on Dedue. He rolls his head to the side, trying to smother his lovestruck grin in his pillow. It’s been two weeks since Dimitri first said that word. _Love_. Then Dedue had said it in return, and then they had…

Dedue buries his face even deeper in his pillow.

Everything about their relationship still feels so new, so exploratory and tentative and _exciting_. It’s everything that Dedue never even dared to dream.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Co--” Dedue tries to speak but finds that his throat is hoarse and sore. He clears his throat and tries again. “Come in.”

Dimitri pushes the door open and then softly closes it behind him, every movement an effort not to disturb the delicate calm of Dedue’s sickroom. In his hand he holds a large glass of water. Instinctually, Dedue moves to stand and greet his king properly.

“Please, don’t get up.”

Dedue stops mid-motion. He settles for sitting stiffly upright to receive Dimitri rather than fully standing. Dimitri places the glass of water on the bedside table then hovers awkwardly, unsure what to do next.

“How are you?” Dimitri asks, then shakes his head at himself. “Nevermind, that’s a silly question. Is there anything that you need? Or want? Could I get you some-”

“There is no need, Your-” Dedue catches his slip up and pauses slightly before correcting himself. “Dimitri.”

Dimitri smiles. “I think I am your Dimitri, am I not?”

As soon as the words are past his lips a pretty pink blush spreads across Dimitri’s cheeks, surprised at his own forwardness. Dedue can feel a matching heat rising up from his neck to the tips of his ears. They stay in that silence for a moment. The ability to be forthright about their feelings, to _flirt_ with one another, is still such a novelty that neither of them are quite sure how to do it yet. Neither wants to cross the line, but they’re unsure if there is even a line to be crossed anymore. Dimitri bites his lip and Dedue wants to place his thumb there, to drag Dimitri’s bottom lip out from between his teeth. He restrains himself.

“Is something the matter?” Dedue asks instead.

“Well, I…” Dimitri hesitates. “Can I… May I take your hair down? It looks uncomfortable with the pillow.”

It’s only once Dimitri draws attention to it that Dedue realizes his ponytail does feel a little awkward pressed into the pillows propped up behind him. This isn’t the first time that Dimitri has noticed Dedue’s discomfort, his needs, before Dedue himself. Dedue has done the same for Dimitri before, as well. He cannot count the number of times he’s forced the king to bed after finding him wandering the halls in the middle of the night. Dedue vaguely wonders why it is that they both seem to care for the other’s comfort more than their own.

“I can handle it.” Dedue reaches up to take his hair down, but Dimitri’s slightly panicked expression halts him.

“No!” Dimitri exclaims. “I mean, would you let me? I so seldom am able to do things for you.”

Dedue pauses, gives a brief nod, and then bends his head down in an offering. Dimitri skims his fingers along the cropped sides of Dedue’s hair, gently brushing a thumb across the outer curve of his ear, perhaps an accident, perhaps on purpose. He undoes the tie that holds Dedue’s hair in place and watches the loose hair fall to one side. There’s a hesitation in his touch, then he dares to run his fingers through it.

Dedue raises his head to look up at Dimitri. The sight of Dedue with his hair framing his face sets off another blush in Dimitri’s cheeks, this one a furiously deep red.

“Thank you,” Dedue says. “But you have important work you should be attending to. I am capable of taking care of myself.”

That snaps Dimitri out of his daze.

“If I leave you unattended you will just try to return to your own work later this afternoon,” Dimitri says. “That will only make your illness worse. I will not allow it.”

Dimitri insists that Dedue spend the afternoon resting and Dedue, whose body is already begging him to lie back down and who can hardly deny Dimitri any request, relents. He falls asleep almost as soon as his body settles back against the bed.

When Dedue wakes, it’s to the scent of Dimitri all around him. It’s a masculine, human smell. Dedue has come to recognize it through years of proximity, years of memorizing everything that makes up Dimitri. Dedue feels a familiar weight draped over him as well, and the softness of fur brushing his skin. For an absurd second he thinks the king himself is splayed out on top of him. He blinks his eyes open. It is already getting dark outside. He sees Dimitri dressed down to just his shirt, no formal attire to be seen. He is sitting on the bed with Dedue. Dimitri has a book open in his lap and, surprisingly, he has taken off his eyepatch to reveal the knotted scar of his empty eye socket. Dimitri rarely allows himself to be seen in such a state of vulnerability. It’s a treasured sign of intimacy that Dedue takes to heart.

“You draped your cape over me.”

Dimitri closes his book and sets it aside. “You seemed cold. I also made you soup.”

Dedue turns his head and sees a bowl waiting for him on the nightstand. He hasn’t eaten since his meager lunch, and though he’s not exactly appetized by the prospect of another meal, putting something in his belly is probably a good idea. As soon as Dedue begins to eat, it becomes immediately clear that Dimitri did in fact cook this himself. It is lukewarm and devoid of any seasoning whatsoever.

“I know the soup is bad,” Dimitri says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “But I did try my best. You do not have to finish it if you do not wish to.”

Dedue continues eating. “This soup is exactly what I need. It’s good to eat bland foods when you are sick, to make sure you do not further upset your stomach.”

Dimitri positively beams. Dedue finishes every last drop of soup before putting the bowl aside.

“May I check your temperature?” Dimitri asks.

Dedue nods. He lays back down and Dimitri leans over him, softly placing a hand upon his forehead.

“You’re overheated,” Dimitri says. “I’ll be right back.”

Dimitri leaves and returns a few minutes later with a clean cloth and a bowl of cool water. He sits back down beside Dedue on the bed.

“May I?” Dimitri gestures with the cool, damp cloth and Dedue nods once again. Words seem to have left him under this deluge of tender affection.

Dimitri lays the cloth across Dedue’s forehead and slowly, softly runs it along Dedue’s heated skin, first down one cheek and along his strong jaw before doing the same on the other side. He places the cloth back in the cool water and repeats the motions a few more times. Dedue wants to lean into the touch, nuzzle against it, but that would be absurd. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than lie there and feel Dimitri’s proximity acutely.

Dimitri swipes the cloth one last time across Dedue’s forehead before finally putting it aside. Dimitri does not move away from where he is leaned over Dedue’s form.

“Better?” Dimitri’s voice is barely a whisp, and Dedue can feel the breath of it brush across his skin.

“Yes.”

Dimitri leans down even further and, tentatively, places a kiss on Dedue’s forehead. He lingers on the heated skin for a long moment, then pulls back just far enough to look into Dedue’s eyes. They gaze at each other and see their own need mirrored in the other’s expression. Dimitri’s lips meet Dedue’s. The touch is still new and exploratory. Dimitri twines his hand with Dedue’s and Dedue opens his mouth slightly, allowing Dimitri entrance. Lips and tongue brush together in their eagerness for one another.

  
  


When Dimitri eventually withdraws, he brings their intertwined hands with him. He sits back up and pulls Dedue’s hand to his lips to kiss him there, too. Dedue sinks deeper into the covers, unsure how all the lovers throughout history have possibly withstood the force of their own feelings. Perhaps the only reason they could withstand it was because they only felt a fraction of what Dedue is now experiencing, with Dimitri’s lips brushing the back of his hand.

Wordlessly, Dimitri climbs into bed behind Dedue. He curves his body around the shape of Dedue’s and wraps his arms around Dedue’s much broader chest. He rests his head against Dedue’s shoulder and peppers kisses there.

“Is this too much?” Dimitri’s voice is still a whisper, unwilling to break the spell that has fallen over the two of them.

Dedue feels like he’s overheating under all of Dimitri’s attentions, and somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that this is not something he should be feeling while he is ill. The rest of his mind dismisses that thought. He wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

“This is perfect,” Dedue whispers back. “But…”

“But?”

“You might get sick, too.”

Dimitri holds Dedue even tighter. “I don’t mind.”


End file.
